Nightmare Fuel Is Made of Sugar and Spice
by smiles1777
Summary: Gokudera/Haru. Haru has decided it is her mission in life to cure Gokudera of his fear of baked goods – whether he has one or not.


**Rating:** PG

**Summary:** Haru has decided it is her mission in life to cure Gokudera of his fear of baked goods – whether he has one or not.

**Author's Notes:** Written for khrfest at LJ. Prompt was: Gokudera/Haru - Cookies; "You have to get over your fear of baked goods someday." Beta'd by silverymare at LJ.

* * *

They had been dating for less than a year when she first got it in her crazy head that he needed help. Professional help. Which apparently half a semester of introductory psychology classes qualified her to provide.

He scowled at her from across the living room. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands placed dangerously on her hips. He impatiently tapped his pencil on his paper, the white space filling with little grey dots where it hit. "Well? Is that all?" he prompted.

She shook her head disapprovingly. "You have a phobia, Gokudera. It isn't _healthy_."

His scowl intensified and he returned to his work (_important_ work, for the Tenth). "I don't have time for your idiotic babblings today."

"Hahi?!" She slammed a hand down on the coffee table where he worked, forcing his attention back onto her angry face. "This is important."

He made an annoyed sound deep in his throat and clenched his teeth. "Let me explain this one more time so you can understand me. I. Do not. Have a fear. Of. Baked goods." He glared threateningly into her eyes, their noses almost touching in an attempt to push further into each other's space, trying to dominate.

"Yes. You. Do," she enunciated slowly back to him.

He swore in Italian, abruptly standing. He stuffed his work into his book bag hurriedly.

"Hahi? Where do you think you're going?"

"Che." He slung the bag over his shoulder and stalked to the door.

"I'M GOING TO CURE YOU WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!" she yelled at him just before he slammed the door shut.

* * *

Desensitization was her first mode of action. Suddenly he was surrounded everywhere by cookies, cakes, tarts and even quiches (since she was certain it was _all_ baked goods, not just the sweet kinds). It started off small, just a plate of tarts when she visited for dinner. Easy to ignore, but when did he ever ignore anything she did? He had thrown them into the trash, she had accused him of being in denial, and they ended up making out on the kitchen floor. He seemed satisfied that her stupid idea (_one_ of her stupid ideas) was finally at an end.

He was wrong, like he always was when he thought Haru would act like a normal, reasonable adult. He would wake up with cookies next to his bed, muffins dotting a long line down his kitchen counter, pies on his coffee table, and biscotti in his toothbrush holder. He even found a Danish placed strategically in his book bag, between his chemistry textbook and his math notebook.

But this, he thought as he scowled at her, took the cake. Or cookie, to be more precise.

Because that's what she was dressed as. A giant chocolate chip cookie. She smiled proudly at him, her arms extended oddly due to the padding of the ridiculous costume.

"Go away." He attempted to close the door to his apartment in her face but her foot caught it.

"Why, are you scared?" She poked his arm. "Just admit you have a phobia."

"I do not have a phobia, you stupid woman!"

A rattling sound was heard as a neighbour opened his door to peer at the ensuing argument.

"HAHI? WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?"

"Shh!" the neighbour interrupted, shaking his head in disapproval.

They both glared at the offending man before Gokudera sighed and stepped back. "Let's continue this inside."

Haru hummed and stepped through the door. Or at least tried to. She was bounced back into the hallway by the spring in her costume. "Hahi?!"

After several attempts at pulling and pushing and side-stepping, they finally tumbled into his apartment. He tried in vain to breathe while her stupid, idiotic cookie outfit suffocated him from above. He pushed into the padding. "Get off me."

"Admit you have a problem."

He growled. "Get. Off."

"ADMIT YOU HAVE A PROBLEM."

"WILL YOU GET OFF ME IF I DO?"

"YES."

"OKAY, FINE, YES."

She rolled off, landing on her back, legs kicking in the air like a stranded turtle and a smile as wide as her face gracing her lips.

He glanced over at her from his position on the floor and scowled, refusing to attempt she looked kind of cute like that. At least it was over.

* * *

It wasn't over. He admitted somewhere deep down in himself, he had known it would never be that easy.

Her next step was cognitive behavioural therapy, which consisted of a month of Haru showing him a cookie or tart or a biscuit and asking him how he felt about it. ("I feel annoyed," was his usual answer, which unfortunately led to Haru psychoanalyzing him for hours. She finally came to the conclusion that his annoyance was a defence mechanism when he felt his "wall of safety" was threatened.)

Haru finally admitted defeat on the cognitive behavioural therapy, though he suspected it had more to do with them moving on to the topic of hypnosis in her class. He glared at her over his book (again, he had _important_ work to do) as she swung a pocket watch back-and-forth. The watch, along with half of his bedroom wall, ended up blown to bits.

He finally had enough when he came back from Tsuna's one day and found her setting up a machine with far too many wires for his comfort in his living room.

"What is that?"

"Hahi?" She glanced up from the manual, a frown on her lips. "It's a biofeedback machine. I'm going to hook you up and monitor your reactions to baked goods."

"Where did you even get that?"

"Hmm, my professor lent it to me. She said they were just going to throw it out anyway. Something about it being old or a safety recall or something, I don't know." She tapped her finger on her cheek, tilting her head at the instructions.

He groaned. "How many times do I have to tell you, I do not have a phobia?"

She glanced at him, unbelief narrowing her eyes. "Then prove it." She pointed to the cookies on the table. "Eat one."

He grumbled under his breath about stupid women and why did he even begin to date her and he wished he was still single, but he grabbed a cookie and took a large, forceful bite, never looking away from her. "See? I'm fine – " He crumbled to the floor, holding his stomach in pain, a cold sweat breaking out over his skin. He glanced at his hand and blanched even more to see the cookie he'd just bit was a purple, foaming concoction.

Haru sighed and crouched beside him, running a cool hand over his forehead. "See? You can't even take one bite without a physical reaction." She hummed forlornly. "And Bianchi-san spent so much time on these."

He squeezed his eyes tight and cursed the day Haru decided to take psychology classes. He felt her stand before he heard clanking noises as she brought the biofeedback machine next to him.

"You have to get over your fear of baked goods someday," she told him soothingly.

His face contorted in pain, but somehow her cool hands on his brow made it bearable.


End file.
